


i got heart and soul

by DragonEyez



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, art martinez-tebbel meet me in the pit, they love each other and they want to take care of each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 20:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14984507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonEyez/pseuds/DragonEyez
Summary: downtime means the chance to recuperate, and it's desperately needed in more ways than one





	i got heart and soul

**Author's Note:**

> technically this is a canon divergent fic even tho i started planning this in the middle of TM53 aka "an au where grand gets the attention he needs post horribleness"
> 
> the wip title was "HEY TAKE CARE OF EACH OTHER FUCKERS"
> 
> title from [one of us](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tVH9SOpEGPM) by new politics

They crawled back onto _The World_ , broken and bloodied and bruised in so many places it was almost impressive that it was impressive that they all weren’t just completely black and blue all over. 

When Grand saw Even gingerly carrying Gig, who looked like he was on Death’s doorstep, with Echo limping alongside them with a hollow look in their eyes, the broken thing inside himself cracked a little bit more, and something sour raised in the back of his throat. While Tender and Fourteen went off to talk somewhere, Even, Echo, and Grand crowded together on the couch. It wasn’t quite comfortable, physically speaking; Grand’s shoulder was fucked, and Echo and Even had their own hurts, but the presence of others was a comfort in its own right. So they sat, basking in each others’ warmth as they waited anxiously for Signet to fix Gig up. Grand was almost almost scared to ask what they’d been doing to let him end up like that, and the other two didn’t seem to want to discuss the events of the mission yet, so they sat in silence.

Hours passed before Signet reemerged with Gig, who now looked far less worse for wear. Grand and Signet made eye contact, and an understanding was made in that moment.

“Come on, let’s go somewhere more comfortable.” He said, helping Echo up. He led all of the to his room, and had Ecen help him push the bunk beds together so there was enough room for all four of them. It was a bit of a squeeze, what with how Gig and Grand both needed space, still, but they all fit, and that was what mattered.

Collectively, they’d situated themselves so Gig was resting against Echo and Grand against Even; they were worried Even’s exoskeleton might exacerbate some of Gig’s less healed injuries, but it was nice to be able to still reach everyone with minimal effort.

They hid together in the comfort of the dark and each other, drifting in and out of sleep. They all woke at different times, hazily noting how Even’s hair was curling over them protectively, coiling around shoulders and wrists like so many friendly snakes. At one point when he woke, Gig found one winding around his free wrist in an approximation of a hand holding it, and he smiled, reaching over Grand’s sleeping body to rest the hand not pinned by Echo on Even’s elbow. Yawing, Even opened one eye and smiled.

“Hey.” He whispered. Then he noticed what his hair was doing and began to retract it, looking a bit sheepish. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No no it’s fine. It was nice.”

“How’re you feeling?”

“Sore.” Gig made a face. “But better than being punctured or exploded. Signet did a pretty good job. For not being a real doctor and all.”

“Gig…”

“No no. It’s whatever. I’m over it now. How are _you_ doing?”

“I’m...dealing. Angry, maybe.”

“Ugh, you wanna talk about _angry_.” Grand grumbled, not even bothering to move his face out of Gig’s neck.

“Shhh!” They both shushed him. But it was too late. Echo was up too.

“Don’t stop on my account.”

“Sorry.” “Sorry.” “Mnyeh.”

“...Grand?”

“I don’t-”

“If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine.” Even’s voice was comforting, and the strong arm that was wrapped around Grand’s middle also grounded him. “But it would probably help.”

“See _that’s_ Signet’s department.” Gig cut in, earning Looks from both Echo and Even. Or at least he assumed he got one from Echo. He couldn’t see them, but there was a feeling, like two lazer points being directed at the back of his head that left him pretty certain that he got a Look from Echo too.

“Maybe.” Grand said, ignoring Gig. “Later. What about you three? What the fuck did you do? You’re all...funky. Not to mention the fact that Gig got _blown up_.”

“We...dealt with a lot of regrets. Ours, and others. Choices that could’ve been made, paths that could’ve been gone down.”

“I was an Advent fucker with a _monocle_. A _monocle_ , Grand.” Echo sounded so righteously horrified that Grand snorted, still too determined to be angsty to give them a proper laugh.

“And I was like,” Gig scrunched his entire face up. “I was so sleazy. And Even was Advent too. And debugged.”

“Sounds like a bad time.”

“It wasn’t, like, the worst, I guess. We met a squid person named Gigus who decided to say ‘fuck Advent’ who was pretty alright. And Saint Wynter. And there’s this who new civilization of the native Qui’err people, and that’s cool.”

“ _How?”_

“Quire had regrets too.” Echo’s voice had a new edge to it. Something was _off_ with them. Even made a note to check up on them later.

There was a pause , and the others thought that Grand may have fallen back asleep, until he rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s our fault the Hegemon or the whatever the hell her name is here.”

“That’s a little-”

“No.” He cut Even off sharply. “There were two people who got ‘prophesied’ to be murdered, and we tried to stop them. And Tender and Fourteen did, I guess, whoopty-fuckin-doo for them. But me and Morning’s royally fucked our end of it. This Church of the Self asshole wouldn’t listen to us, and then he attacked us both, and Morning’s got all roughed up and he was so _angry_ and he killed this Saint, one of the ones we met in the City of Glass, can you believe it. And the Church guy. Who was the one we were actually supposed to save and now…”

Angry tears began to slip down his cheeks, and Echo reached over Gig to stroke his hair.

“I don’t think I can keep doing this job anymore. I’m not some Fixer. I was a trucker, and I was an artist, and now what am I doing?! I’m not like the rest of you I don’t-”

“ _Hey_.” Echo’s tone left no room for argument. “This one was bad. I get it. When it’s bad, it’s _bad_. I’m sorry. But don’t you _dare_ act like you’re disposable. Don’t act like you; aren’t needed here, or aren’t wanted. We’re all fucked up. We’ve all messed up on jobs. But it happens. And now we’ll deal with the fallout. Together.”

Gig sat up with some effort, looking down at Grand with his “serious face” on. “We need you. And not just because of this,” he gestured to the four of them. “But because you contribute your own skills and talents to the team. It’s _because_ you were an artist and a trucker and like a billion other things that makes you a valuable member of the Notion.”

Even looked concerned. “If you want to leave, if you’re truly done, we’ll understand. We’ll even help you. But don’t do it just because you think you don’t belong here. That’s just bullshit.”

They all collectively held their breath for several agonizing moments. Grand himself didn't know how he was going to react. And then his body was racked with one shuddering breath, and then another, and before he knew it, he’d tucked himself completely into Gig’s side so the others couldn’t see the tears that were coming, fast and hot and carrying a thousand different conflicting emotions.

Echo and Even exchanged glances, eyebrows raised almost simultaneously. There would be more to unpack and discuss, for all of them. But there would be time for that later. For now, all they could do was press closer together, curling in with each other, as if their collected presence could stave off the doubts and the fears ad the tragedies.

And for the moment: it could.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. i can be found [here](https://theunacceptablepylades.tumblr.com/) on tumblr or [@thedaedpoets](https://twitter.com/thedaedpoets) on twitter. and if you like what i write, consider buying me a [coffee](https://ko-fi.com/queerlydeparted)


End file.
